I don’t know why I’m still dumbfounded by this journey the Lord has me on. After all, He is a supernatural God. Lately, however, He has taken me on a journey where I am literally revisiting some of the hardest times of my life—the same place, different time—Ashes to Beauty.

Here are just a few examples:

In November 2024, I found myself writing my very first blog post—on a topic that hit incredibly close to home. It was about my daughter’s spinal meningitis diagnosis, and the post was published exactly seven years to the day since we were admitted to the hospital.

In December 2024, the Lord guided me to stay in the same hotel where, five years earlier, my daughter had first started limping. I had no idea we were in the same place until my mother pointed it out.

In December 2024, the Lord placed me in a coffee booth with a friend, talking about the challenges of marriage—exactly where my husband and I had once sat, four years earlier, discussing our separation.

In just a matter of a few weeks, I was forced to reflect on times in my life that rocked my faith. Obviously, I knew the Lord was telling me it was time to seal up some wounds.

One thing I’ve noticed is when you ask the Lord to heal you, He will take you on a journey backward. It comes in the form of a flashback to that painful moment from your childhood, an exchange with a loved one, or that scene that replays over and over in your mind—the one where the person you loved most did something you can’t seem to forgive, or perhaps something you did, and the shame feels too unbearable to face. And while we would love to just forget it all and move on with our lives, that’s not actually what healing looks like. At least, that’s what I’m learning.

Instead, He allows you to look at it, feel it, and then see it with fresh eyes.

We all LOVE the breakthrough, but you can’t really get there without a little bit of breaking first.

Here is another one of those moments that did a fair amount of breaking in my life…

After Kenzie was brought home from the hospital after overcoming spinal meningitis, we only had a few weeks to recover before Kenzie spiked another fever. Back to the ER we went, only this time I refused the spinal tap for my baby. I don’t really know why we made that decision. It just sort of flew out of my mouth without much thought behind it. Perhaps I just couldn’t handle that awful test again. Regardless, that ER visit amounted to us being sent home with some suggestions and a “good luck.”

In the next several weeks and months, we encountered frequent elevated temperatures and an uptick in rashes that would cover Kenzie’s entire body, each of them having no clear source.

My husband and I had a lot of questions and no real answers as to why our infant kept spiking fevers. We eventually stopped taking Kenzie’s temperature after being told that our thermometer was faulty. We went with that only to realize two years later that we weren’t crazy, our thermometer wasn’t faulty, and our child had an autoimmune disease. Actually, it is was an autoinflammatory disease. More on that later.

Shortly after Kenzie’s second ER visit, we pursued a pediatrician instead of a family doctor for our children. Our new doctor discovered a heart murmur on our first visit, and a month later, we were sitting across from a pediatric cardiologist hearing that our baby had two holes in her heart and an artery that needed to grow in order to avoid surgery. The good news was this type of heart murmur was common in infants, and we were hopeful Kenzie’s heart condition would eventually correct itself so surgery could be avoided before she turned one.

This would be the same cardiologist who, two years later, would tell us that Kenzie had a substantial amount of fluid around her heart.

Sickness, Sickness, and More Sickness

From 7 weeks to 15 months old, Kenzie faced common illnesses with an uncommon frequency. Every few weeks, we found ourselves at the doctor’s office, trying to uncover the cause of fevers, rashes, ear infections, respiratory issues, breathing treatments, strep throat, tonsillitis, and the list seemed endless.

Kids get sick, but this was constant.

After some time, it was recommended that Kenzie see an ENT, which ultimately led to her first tube surgery. While it wasn’t a fun experience, it wasn’t a major procedure either.

The Day My Daughter Started Limping

Three days later, we decided to keep our travel plans and headed to a town three hours away to do some Christmas shopping. We questioned the trip since Kenzie had just had surgery, but the doctors assured us that she would be fine, and selfishly I needed something to look forward to.

Once we arrived, it was time to unload our things into the hotel. Kenzie was 15 months old at the time and was a great walker. However, as I was getting her out of the van, she refused to be put down. I thought it was odd since she had been in a car for quite a while; however, I chalked it up to her being shy in a new place.

As we entered the hotel room, she once again refused to be put down. My mommy instincts were starting to kick in at this point, but I ignored them with the hustle and bustle of settling in at the hotel. 

After we dropped off our luggage in the hotel room, we decided to check out the pool. As we approached the door, Kenzie suddenly wanted down—but instead of walking, she crawled. I couldn’t help but think, That’s odd.

“Look, Ryan, she is crawling,” I pointed out to my husband. I didn’t like the idea of her crawling on the dirty floor of the hotel, so I carried her for the remainder of the time.

After walking around the hotel for a while, it was time to get the girls ready for bed. As I was putting Kenzie’s nighttime diaper on, I decided to let her play for a bit to burn off some energy. But once again, Kenzie clung to me, refusing to be set down. My heart began to race, and what happened next only confirmed my growing concern.

I gently placed Kenzie down, determined to encourage her to walk instead of crawl. She took a few steps, but I quickly noticed she was whimpering and favoring her right leg.

“Kenzie is limping.”

“Ryan, Kenzie is limping,” I spoke out loud. I heard my own voice crack with fear, knowing this was not normal. My husband and I watched as our 15-month-old hobbled forward for a few more steps, then reverted to crawling—so unlike our active toddler.

A feeling of dread rushed over me.

“Maybe her foot is asleep,” my husband said.

“Yeah, maybe,” I responded. 

We decided to check her foot for an injury but could not find a source for the pain. However, I noticed that her foot looked pretty puffy, and there was a deep ring around her ankle where her sock used to be. I also saw some redness on her foot and ankle. I gave Kenzie some Tylenol to help with whatever she was dealing with, and we decided to put everyone to bed with the hope that when we woke up, Kenzie would not be limping.

Wrestling with My Thoughts

All night long, I wrestled with the image of my daughter limping. Why is my child limping, God? What am I looking at? I heard the words “Juvenile Arthritis” pop into my brain.

“Don’t jump to conclusions!” I told myself having no idea that the Holy Spirit was attempting to get my attention.

The Next Morning

After a sleepless night consumed by worry and anxiety, the new day finally arrived. The first thing I did was check on my daughter, Kenzie, hoping to see her return to her usual self. My heart lifted when she greeted me with a smile and asked to be picked up. I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, but with a mix of caution, I gently set her down. Kenzie carefully placed both feet on the ground and walked over to her sister to play. I exhaled in relief, not realizing I’d been holding my breath the entire time, silently praying we’d never see her limp again.

Unfortunately, things didn’t work out the way I hoped.

For the next several days, Kenzie’s limp returned every evening.